Long Impelled Poems
Long Impelled Poems. Below are the most popular long Impelled by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Impelled poems by poem length and keyword.
In recent daydreams, I bemused
trekking the wild African plain -
herds of hippoes and elephants
petrifying prey with their might.
Envisioning the behemoth
I recall a story about
behemoth’s strong powerful tail.
So my reverie is confused.
An elephant’s tail I see as
a bottle brush, skinny, floppy.
I had heard, read, or seen somewhere
“the behemoth’s tail sways like a
cedar” which immediately
brought to mind the elephant’s trunk.
This trance has the power to amuse
I ponder the thought of a writer
who mistook the front end for the
rear end of an elephant and
in typical dream fashion had
created a new fantasy -
the legendary behemoth.
At this point my head went on cruise
drifting to comic books of old,
where behemoth is a monster
set in the tales of Atlantis.
I recall a trip with puppets
electric eels, whirlwinds, quicksand
from the brilliant minds at Marvel.
For writers impelled by a muse
to pen our imaginations,
dreams make perfect sense while dreaming.
Sweats, rapid heart beats are the proof
when we awake in frantic haste
to get it all down on paper
before our mind reverts to truth.
Quantum Duck Soup
On a quest not unlike the hunting of the Snark,
The physicist seeks his elusive quarks,
Those delectable nothings that come in fine flavors,
Dancing through the void like colored party favors.
Their elusive forms leave him vaguely annoyed,
Their lack of substance teasing his mind
With hints of possible future sustenence
Though the harder he looks, the less he finds.
At the last he settles for confining them to books,
Their invisible bodies hung up on invisible hooks.
Strangeness, Beauty, Charm and Truth -
These the four gifts of Spacetime's youth.
What a pity such flavors may never be tasted,
Save by such minds as are themselves roasted and basted
In the merciless ovens of Pure Mathematics,
Where Theorems be bred by eccentric fanatics.
Up, Down, Bottom and Top -
The merry quarks spin on, and never stop.
The bones and brains of their living hosts
Move ever forward, impelled by flavored ghosts.
My fellow poet
Mr, Ian Guy
You may not know it
But you give me a why
Why do I write
Why do I post
I struggle for sight
You give me a toast
One of the few
Dissecting my rhymes
Honest reviews
Feeling my lines
I've become intrigued
To hear your two cents
I Display my reads
With dings and dents
It seems to me
Your fond of my style
Simple as it may be
You make it worth while
I felt impelled
To make you aware
Each poem I weld
I'm eager to share
I appreciate your words
They resonate
Whether useless curd
Or something great
Feedback is nice
My drive is applause
You review my slice
And give me a cause
One more thing
I'd like you to know
You repaired my wing
As I was ready to go
I read your work too
Your talent shone
I'm inspired by you
Your words, you own
Climber
by Odin Roark
Reality readied its chance
Ascent of an alpine face
Traversing ice and cold
Challenging steel axe and rope
Such was the pulsating vibration
Facing another dawn
That day
Blade and ice danced slow motion
Penetrating deep into resistance
Echoing through layered centuries
Awakening nature to its presence
Breath became reserved
High altitude remained merciless
Snow-blind eyes squinted thankfully
As yards became feet
Became inches
Became respect for the unknown
Frozen feet
Cinched tight inside
Defiant crampons
Numbly impelled their serrated spikes
The blue iced chorus groaned displeasure
Reminding auger-encroachment
Frozen time was forever resilient
Destiny prevailed
Mortality hung suspended
As will over apathy
Courage over defeat
Found fear had been conquered
Life’s architecture
Like da Vinci ’s Vitruvian Man
Became a frozen tapestry
Life’s proportions
Past
Future
Present
Coalesced
Transformed
Became…
Some might say such a tale
Mere envisages
Penned into a journal
To bide some time
This night however…
The mountain-wall’s next attempt
Huddled in a tent weathering sub-zero temperatures
Sipped tea from his father’s battered cup
A legacy found long ago
Floating atop glacial runoff
Through the night
Ink continued flowing
Tin cup foreshadowing remained warm
First light neared
He was raised by different indigenes,
After being embedded in specialized tissue,
Those moments were tough,
And in fact, it wasn`t easy for the mum,
Did you recall that point the dad was contemplating in hard times?
That was all about their child’s successfulness to arrive in a failing world,
Perhaps, the couples never stationed their class on dignation and confidence,
Because all over their positions were seen panic and indigence,
From the prime time of their worthiness,
The family had their story written on board of joy and gratefulness,
Effort opened door for the child to be learned,
The child was impelled to stay victorious bit by bit when knew she was grabbing a career she always altered,
Like a joke said by a drunkard, it was just a meep rimmed,
Panting untimely was due to dribbles from blowing wind,
New season arrived when the family got asserted to be placed on broken home,
Everyone had no choice than to feel alone,
Except the child who chose to climb the ladder before she broke her heart bone,
The ladder was “drug addiction life”,
It was “immoral life”’
Then what else?
“Desertion”, that was the significance of the ladder,
On a wrong path the child walked, joined a queue that laid a faulty hand making her a blunderer,
Who advocated a topic of caring for her?
Nobody searched for her whereabouts,
Since both parents were remarried, she was left in a drought,
It`s very sad, because her life turned into a bout,
After sojourning in vagrancy,
She was shot on the field of robbery,
And now her body is still in the morgue,
Whilst investigators inquire about what went wrong.
But who deserves the blame?
“twice born, we live on”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
we are lost, as long as ...
we wish to keep the cake
and eat it too
left foot in one boat
right in the other
sitting on the fence ...
we are lost, as long as ...
we thus vacillate
our attention oscillates
between the ego
grasping and seizing
and our spirit
prayerfully connecting ...
we are lost, as long as ...
we are deaf
to voice of conscience
preferring to rely
on fragmented thought
impelled by ego
amidst fleeting illusions
in the external
with regrets of past
fear of future
rooted in attachments
causation of stagnation
in feral desires ...
we are free when ...
we recognise the truth
that we are not mind body
but spirit unbound
here for a sojourn
for a breath of fresh air
to experience earth life
as a separate entity
although interconnected
with all of existence
vibrationally by love
being Gods energy
omnipresent ...
we are free when ...
we accept the limitations
of mind body
knowing we have so chosen
to experience duality
that love yearning for love
to feel complete
magnetically aligns
head and heart
igniting the Sushumna
with bliss electricity
a climax of ecstasy
in renewal continual
in permanence
within ...
we are free when ...
as the object here manifest
by us the subject pure spirit
one with God consciousness
when we as object quieten
resting ego borne thought
entering void of silence
initially in meditation
which by prioritisation
becomes our orientation
thereby hollowing out form
getting to emptiness
a spacial voidness
of no-thingness
wherein suffused with love
in its beauteous hues
self and Self align
as mind body vaporises ...
“who are you looking for, oh hermit
there is no one here!”
15-December-2020
Dissect is a no-nonsense word, meaning to cut up, to cut open, to examine in detail. My first recalled encounter with dissecting took place in my high school biology class where we dissected a frog. That was more than 50 years ago, and I suspect that frog dissecting is no longer allowed. But a reexamination( a dissecting) of The Declaration of Independence is providing me an even greater appreciation for the determination of our forefathers to be liberated and free at all cost.
Were I to fully dissect the Declaration of Independence there would be multiple parts of the examination. I will, therefore, be brief in exploring a few noteworthy aspects of the declaration.
In as much as their belief in equality was limited and selective, let it suffice to say that 'equality beliefs' was a work in progress. But there can be no denial, history revisionists notwithstanding, that they were firm in their beliefs about Truth, Creator, Supreme Judge, God-Entitlements, and Divine Endowments.
243 years ago, thirteen colonies represented by 54 men declared their independence from Great Britain, the most powerful nation on earth. They had very little military power but were energized with purpose and unity. Clearly, the weapons of their warfare were not carnal but mighty through God. They were neither fearless nor fools but very courageous.
They had no illusions of grandeur nor delusions of haloes, but their cause was just, their pursuit was righteous, and their reliance and dependency were upon The Supreme Judge of the world. With a trusting heart full of steam, never impeded by things they did not comprehend, impelled by a cause,
and pushing forward full speed ahead, they were 'all in'. There was no doubt about their commitment as expressed in their own words in the last sentence, "And for the support of this declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor".
06282019cj
The Big Bang sound vibrates in the universal core,
pulsates in harmony with the concerto of the creator.
The elements of His presence is ingrained in our souls,
interconnected by the common threads of awareness.
Everything crafted drifts in the stream of continuum
that cascades with the music of love in our hearts.
By one universal melodic chord we all are bound,
from one cosmic harp all the prime rhythms ripple.
The heavenly infinite network of unique oneness
encrypts the unifying divine algorithm of our being.
Suffused with unbound flash of the godly galaxy
our souls perceive the universal acuity of divinity.
As the karmic design aligns with the absolute
the pristine petals of the awakened souls unfurl,
blossoming the heavenly flower of love.
In its fragrance floats the grandeur of His grace.
In the sacred sanctum of timeless tranquility,
embraced by the seamless sky of His benevolence,
the liberated souls merge with the devout wholeness,
flies free impelled by the effervescence of salvation.
I or let’s say we, perceive outer form,
till feeling within, bliss magnetism warm.
Illusions seen are but an ego ruse,
trailing as thought forms, becoming our muse.
Irked by thought spirals, that twirl us around,
trading angst for joy, in love our soul’s drowned.
Impelled by a need to garner the truth,
tailwinds divine beseech God search forsooth.
Inked by hues of love, heart lotus blossoms,
tracing playfully, bliss in all bosoms.
Is not descent into life a wonder,
tilling heart till no one is asunder?
Ignition of love, awaits us within,
tango dancing to feel bliss on our skin.
In timeless time by grace, we vaporise,
tasting flavours of life breaths in surprise.
Intimate is touch of God’s love caress,
transfixing us in bliss, free from duress.
Immediate is granting of bliss boons;
toroidal mists, within which our heart swoons.
Instant nirvana’s ours for the asking,
taming ego’s urge for multitasking.
Illumination, to soul is innate,
thwarted yet on earth by desires that bait.
In the vibrant void of silence, let’s rest,
tapering thought, we find we’re at the crest.
15-August-2022
Somewhere out there
The world is all in slumber
Prayers have been said
Tears have been shed
Where people care waiting for a miracle
Sitting in the window seat
Cozy and warm by the fireplace
I listening to the soft crackling sound
Of golden amber fire
Waiting and looking out the window at the falling snow
Impatiently watching the cloud migrate slowly across the sky
A hidden moon back-lit a large cloud, fringing it with silver
Thrill waiting so long as patience can endure, a lifetime it seems
A soft whine and nudge with a cold wet nose to my face
Startling me to wake with a fright
With the hair on the back of my neck standing upright
As I tremble and brace myself with unutterable shock
Curiosity impelled me to move forward
Drawing nearer made me gasped
With trembles and thrills
Gazing upon shadows movement and the sounds of crunching
Near the fireplace in a high wing-back chair
Sat Old Saint Nicholas holding a cup of hot cocoa
Snacking on the cookies I had left
Listening to the music play “Jolly Old St. Nicholas”
12/7/2015
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